


sheithfest collection

by narada-talis (sarensen)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Day At The Beach, Drabbles, Established Relationship, First Dates, Fluff, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Season/Series 06, Post-Season/Series 07, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fill, Season 2, Season 8 Doesn't Exist, background allurance, collection, event fics, mention of canon-typical racism against the galra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-18 18:37:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19340272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarensen/pseuds/narada-talis
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for thesheithfestevent.Day 1 (Warm up/100-word mini game):On the long journey home after losing everything, some wounds will take longer to heal than othersDay 2 (I Will Never Give Up On You):Keith struggles to come to terms with what it means to be part Galra. Shiro helps.Day 3 (Prompts Challenge (8. Battle/fight | 12. Confessions | 19. First dates)): Keith and Shiro have an unconventional first date.Day 4 (Copilots): The first time Keith and Shiro race hover bikes together, and the first time they race hover bikes together after the war.Day 5 (HAPPY SHEITH DAY! (Free day)): The beach episode we all deserved.They look lost in each other. Their eyes are closed, hands touching skin tenderly. They look like they might melt into each other, like every curve and line of their faces was created specifically to align with the other's.Day 6 (As Many Times As It Takes)





	1. strangers, together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zjofierose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 - Warm up/100-word mini-game

Keith can’t sleep. The right side of his face is on fire, still raw and aching. It’ll take time to heal fully, without the Castleship’s pods.

He reaches out, almost tracing the metal that consumed Shiro’s right shoulder; stops.

Shiro looks back at him. The white hair makes him look older, or maybe it’s the new lines etched on his face, the way he can never quite meet Keith’s eyes.

Keith whispers, “Sometimes I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”

Shiro rolls onto his back to face him, and says, “Me too.”

Neither of them sleep again that night.


	2. self (disambiguation)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 - I Will Never Give Up On You

The others react to it in their own way. Hunk asks him a hundred questions he doesn't know the answers to, and then makes jokes about it, which Keith groans and rolls his eyes at but secretly appreciates. Lance is _Lance_ about it. Pidge doesn't seem to care at all, treats him the same as always. She's on her own mission as usual, too consumed with finding her family to have much room for anyone else's problems. But Allura...

Allura hates him.

Of course Allura hates him.

Keith's only known the Galra a few months, and _he_ hates them. He can't imagine what it must have been like for her to watch them destroy everything she knew, everything she loved or held dear. So he understands the way she looks at him now, the mistrust and betrayal in her eyes, he really does. But seeing it still hurts.

It's an adjustment. Everything he does now, everything he says, every little interaction with his teammates is overlaid with this invisible weight, a constant reminder that he's part of a whole other race, a whole other culture he knows nothing about. Would it have influenced the kind of person he was if he'd known? Would he act differently? Talk differently? A part of him is constantly wondering, constantly reevaluating and second-guessing everything he does. He takes a step back from discussions about Galran military activities and the inevitable racial bias that makes itself known in them. He spends long nights in his room reading through every piece of information he can find on the Galra in the Castleship's archives, hungry for anything at all he can learn about this other side of himself he only just got to know about.

"Maybe they're not all like that," he starts saying, and then, "They're _not_ all like that," more than once, and watches the skepticism and pity in the others' eyes with quiet exasperation that slowly turns into anger. He can't blame them; he'd have trouble convincing himself that there might be such a thing as a _good_ Galra if it weren't for the Blades. He starts pulling away from his team, and he doesn't mean to, not at first. It's just easier to take his food goo in his room, scrolling through the Marmoran datapad Kolivan gave him. It's just easier to go to the training room late at night, when the others happen to be asleep already. It's just that he has trouble sleeping these days. That's all.

A week goes by before Shiro comes to his room one night. Keith knows it's him because he doesn't request entry on the keypad outside, but rather raps his knuckles on the door, metal against metal. He always does that, like they're back at the Garrison dorm with its old wooden doors.

Keith's been staring at his knife again, at the glowing purple symbol he now knows to be the mark of Marmora, trying to figure out what it means for him. He puts it down, hesitating before getting up to open the door.

Shiro leans in the doorway, smiling. Everything about him is soft - the tank top and sweatpants, the fluff of his just-washed, unstyled hair, the casual curl of his spine pressing against the frame. "Hey," he says, and even his voice is soft.

Keith hugs himself, staring at where the silver metal of Shiro's prosthetic bites into his shoulder. "Hey."

Shiro pushes away and steps past him without an invitation, walking into his room and sitting down on the edge of his unmade bed. Keith's heart stutters at how much he looks like he belongs there, how right it feels to have him in his space. The door hisses shut, and Keith stands in front of it.

"Come here," Shiro says after a while, and has to repeat it, patting the bed next to him before Keith moves from his spot. He sits down, and even now there is still a space between them. It's only a few inches, but it feels like the distance between stars.

Shiro says, "You know you can talk to me about anything," and it makes Keith frown, because he can't, not really - he can't tell Shiro how just looking at him lately makes him feel like he has to apologize, can't tell him how he sometimes stands outside his room at night listening to the soft whimpers and panicked cries of his nightmares. He knows Shiro still has dreams about the fighting camps, about losing his arm, about being forced to kill opponent after opponent, about everything else the Galra tortured him with. Now that he knows he's part of their people, the same as the ones who did this to Shiro, how can he tell him how afraid he is that he'll look him in the eye one day and see that fear directed at him? 

So he just says, "I'm fine."

They're quiet for a while. Keith counts Shiro's breaths, acutely attuned to the heat radiating off him and the soft rustle of his clothes and the sheets every time he shifts. He feels it a moment before Shiro turns to hug him, half turns to meet him halfway. Keith's breath hitches. His arms hover in the air in surprise. Shiro gathers him to his chest and it feels like he's never going to let go.

And it's like a dam breaks inside Keith. Relief floods over him in a wave of tingling heat, because this isn't _I forgive you_ \- it's _There was never anything to forgive_ and it's I _'d love you anyway, no matter what_.

Keith squeezes his eyes shut against the sudden tears threatening to spill over. He buries his face in Shiro's warm neck and his hands bunch in Shiro's tank, clutching on as if his life depended on it.

In many ways, he thinks, it does.

Eventually, they fall asleep together on Keith's narrow bed, still in each other's arms, because Keith doesn't need to explain anything to Shiro, because Shiro understands him in ways no one else ever has. And for the first time since their visit to Marmora headquarters, he feels like his world stops spinning just a little bit, like things start to make sense again, just a little bit.

He wakes up the next morning resting on Shiro's chest, and Shiro smiles at him and says he hasn't slept this well in over a year. Keith ducks his head, warmed, pleased, and tugs on the neckline of Shiro's tank. Instead of asking him to stay, to sleep here every night, with him, together, safe, he says, "I'm starving."

"Breakfast?" Shiro asks tentatively, "... The others will be downstairs."

Keith smiles slightly, looking up to meet his eyes. "That's okay."

And for the first time since learning he's part Galra, he feels like it actually might be.


	3. in love and war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 - Prompts Challenge (8. Battle/fight | 12. Confessions | 19. First dates)

"I-I love you too," is all Keith can manage, stuttering, pleased, shocked, eyes wide and lips still wet and tingling from where Shiro kissed him.

Shiro's smile wrinkles the corners of his eyes. He pulls Keith into a tight hug, the metal of his Galra arm warm against his back. It startles a laugh out of Keith, and he puts his arms around Shiro and never wants to let him go.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to say that to you," Shiro murmurs in his ear, and Keith thinks, _Actually, I do_ , because he's been waiting three years to hear Shiro say it.

"Kiss me again," is what he says in reply, pulling back to look into Shiro's eyes before closing his own. 

A klaxon blares, and Keith opens his eyes to red lights flashing. Shiro groans lightly, a grimace pulling at the scar on the bridge of his nose. Keith smiles, and reaches up to rest his forefinger on Shiro's chin. "Later?"

Shiro nods. "Later."

Keith's perfected the art of strapping on his armor along the mad dash to the Red Lion. He shoots out of the Castleship and into a torrent of laser fire. The others are already there, Green and Yellow and Blue streaking contrails through the stars.

A Galra battleship looms in the distance, ion cannons glowing ominous purple as they charge up. It came out of nowhere, Coran reports over their comms, must be a random patrol. Purple fighter jets are swarming all around.

Keith can't help but grin, a little feral. Adrenaline surges as he dodges and spins, the Red Lion gliding oil-slick and light through the storm. He shoots down ten fighters, thirty, a hundred. And then, through the dissipating flames of what used to be an ion cannon, he sees the Black Lion. And behind him, two fighters closing in.

He rushes to Shiro's side, slipping underneath the Black Lion's belly and taking the Galra fighters by surprise. They go down in a fireball, metal shards and debris pelting into Keith's viewport.

"Thanks for the cover, baby," Shiro says over the comms. 

Keith chokes.

" _Baby_?" Lance sputters over the comms, incredulous.

Hunk whistles suggestively.

Pidge groans, which really sums up how they all feel about it, except maybe Shiro, who seems to be enjoying this way too much.

"Focus, please!" Allura says sharply into their ears, and she has a point. They haven't been Team Voltron long enough that they can afford to get very distracted on the battlefield.

Shiro, predictably, snaps straight back into leader mode. He lays out a strategy, barks a few simple orders, and the next thing Keith knows his Lion is transforming into an arm.

They take out the battlecruiser in a matter of seconds. The remaining drone fighters go dark and silent, momentum carrying them into a slow drift. The noise of battle dies out, the zipping of lasers fading into the distant groan of metal as invisible currents of gravity pull the ships apart.

"I guess it's over," Pidge's tinny voice says after a brief silence.

"Good work, team," Shiro replies, "Let's break apart and get back to the Castle."

Keith bites his lip, then smiles slightly and says, "You'll always be a part of me, Shiro. Even when we're not Voltron."

Lance groans out, "Oh my god," and Pidge snaps, "Guys!"

"Wait, wait," Hunk interrupts, the giant yellow face of his Lion appearing in Keith's viewport after the white flash of Voltron breaking apart fades, "Did... were you... was that a date?"

Keith blinks. "I guess it was."

"Our first date," Shiro says, his voice warm.

"Aw," Lance coos, "Shiro and Keith, sitting in a robot, K-I-S-S-ING a lot."

Shiro sounds annoyed when he admonishes, "Lance!".

But Keith can't help but smile, his chest filling with warmth. A date with Shiro. Granted, they were being shot at, chased, and otherwise put in life-threatening situations by their mortal enemies at the time, but still. A date with Shiro.

It's everything he could have wanted and more. 


	4. Twilight to Moonrise (Keith)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 - Copilots (Companion piece to _[Sunset to Starlight (Shiro)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19354024)_ by [zjofierose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/pseuds/zjofierose))

_Then_

Later, Keith will look back on this day and remember falling in love.

Later, he'll recall the way Shiro says his name - softly, and full of faith no one else has ever had in him except in the dim echoes of his memories of his dad - and he'll lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling and replay it over and over in his mind.

They race until the only thing they can see is desert, and only stop at sunset. Keith can hardly believe Shiro agrees to taking out the hover bikes at all, not responsible Shiro, Garrison poster-boy Shiro, recruiter Shiro with the immaculate uniform and perfect posture. But when Keith brings it up, perfect Shiro's face lights up, and he says, "I'll do you one better," and "Last one to the mesa has to buy dinner," and before Keith totally realizes what's happening, all that's left of Shiro's hover bike is a dust cloud diffusing his red brake lights in the distance.

Keith can't stop the wide grin spreading across his face, all teeth and slightly manic. Later, he'll remember this and realize no one else ever made him feel this way. He's always been competitive, always had to be the best, because for so long, being the best was the only thing he had; no family, no friends, no love. So he's clung to it, fiercely, protectively, and to the detriment of his relationships with everyone else. But Shiro makes him want to be _better_ , and it's different because he doesn't want to be better than Shiro, only better than he himself used to be. A better person. And this, too, is a feeling that uniquely belongs to Shiro.

He watches Shiro dive off a cliff and he isn't scared for him, not even a little, because it's Shiro and to Keith's mind, Shiro is invincible. It's not until later still that he'll learn this isn't true.

Shiro wins the race, and when Keith eventually catches up to him, he's already waiting. Keith stops the hover bike and slips off, muscles aching pleasantly and sweat slicking his hair to his forehead. There's a tear in his jacket sleeve where he caught it on a thorny desert tree. He doesn't notice it until later.

He calls Shiro _old-timer_ with a smile, leaning back against the bike to try and play down how fast his heart is beating. Shiro's hair is tousled and his body sun-warm where he leans next to Keith, and Keith wishes he could freeze time and stay in this moment forever. 

He tells Shiro about his dad. He doesn't know why. He isn't in the habit of talking to other people about it, or at all. But he tells Shiro, and Shiro smiles at him, and the world feels like it makes sense again. His chest is so full it feels like bursting.

Later, everything he thinks he knows will change. Shiro will try to play it down, talk around it, change the subject, but all Keith will hear is _death sentence_ , because for someone like Shiro, it might as well be. And it'll make him angry. He'll want to scream, he'll want to blame the universe for giving him this incredible gift only to take it away again. He'll almost want to hate Shiro for it, for being there for him when no one else was, for making him love him only to go away, for making him this helpless, this vulnerable to the hurt he swore he would never allow himself to feel again.

He doesn't hate Shiro. He can't. He could never.

Later, he'll sit next to Shiro on their blanket and swear to the sunset and the orange sky and whatever powers may be that he'll find a way to save him, that he'll never let him go, that he'll die with Shiro before allowing him to leave, if that's what it takes.

For now, he watches the way the shadows play on Shiro's cheeks under the drifting clouds, and crosses his arms against the urge to reach out and take his hand, and wonders at the fact that it could even be possible to feel this happy, this content.

\---------------------------------------------------

_Now_

They still race deep into the desert, but now, they stop long after the moon has risen. Nostalgia, more than anything else, leads Keith to the cliff's edge where he once stood and listened as Shiro described his world falling to pieces. 

Things are different now: the unknown galaxy crashed into Earth in the most violent of ways. Keith found his family, found the place he belongs. He swore he would save Shiro, and he did. 

He wins more of their hover bike races now, though he suspects Shiro might be going easy on him. He pulls to a stop and catches his breath, watching the white circles of Shiro's headlights tear through the distant desert night. Above them the moon is fat and gold and bright; around them, the desert is settling down for the night, the constant drone of cicadas turning into a chorus of crickets and night birds and the rustle of a cool breeze over the flats.

The progression of their lives has been anything but natural, and sometimes harder than Keith thought he'd be able to bear. But if there's one thing that has only ever been easy, simple, right - it's being with Shiro. It's become a part of Keith, like breathing.

He smiles as Shiro lays his helmet on the seat of the bike. So often when he looks at him, he thinks _how lucky I am to be here, how lucky I am to have this. To have him._ Maybe it's because he came so close to losing Shiro so many times. Because he _did_ lose him, and getting him back almost cost them both everything.

The old blanket he unearths from the depths of his bike looks like it's seen better days, and smells worse, but this, too, is welcome for its nostalgia. Stars glint off the rings on their fingers as they make themselves comfortable, make small talk, joke about old times, and eventually trail off into restful silence.

When the cold of the desert night starts biting at their faces, Shiro scoops Keith against his chest, and Keith rests back against him, feeling warmer and safer than he has in a very long time.

"That year, after..." he says, and he doesn't say _Kerberos_ , because despite everything else they've been through, that year of _failed mission_ and _pilot error_ is somehow still the worst. "That year, I used to come out here alone. I used to look up past the moon and tell myself I could see all the way to Jupiter. Sometimes I told myself you were still up there, somewhere, looking down on me, because it made me feel less alone."

Shiro doesn't reply. Keith doesn't really expect him to. He just tightens his arms around him, and Keith knows it means _I'm sorry_ , even though he has nothing to be sorry for.

Later, Shiro will tell him he loves him, and Keith will feel like galaxies and supernovas and nebulae and all the other amazing things he loves about space have made a home inside his chest, bursting to be free. He'll say it back, of course, but it can never really express everything he feels for Shiro. Later, they'll kiss, and it will feel like Keith's world is ending, but only in the way of new beginnings, new life; in that Shiro _is_ his world now.

\-------------------------------------------------

Between then and now lies the vast black of space where stars have names instead of numbers, a whole universe of war, and coming home to Earth to find that everything had changed. Everything except them. What they have between them has always been there, from the start, to the end of it all.

The passage of Keith's life starts being marked less and less by time, and more by the fondness in Shiro's eyes when he smiles at him in the early morning when they wake up next to each other. Out there, the universe slowly drifts into atrophy, suns die out and are reborn, and planets that no longer need defending go about their days, telling stories of the legendary warriors who saved them.

In here, in their bedroom, secluded away from the world between soft sheets and gentle caresses, they are just Shiro and Keith. They are just the pieces they salvaged from the debris of their lives. They are just two people who love each other.

For Keith, that's enough.


	5. 6 fun things to do at the beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 - HAPPY SHEITH DAY! (Free day)

**1\. Build a sandcastle**

Days like these are rare, the kind that only come around once every few years. The sky is perfect and cloudless, the white sand warm and soft, and the water so clear you can see right down to the reef. Water undulates in slow exhales and inhales as the ocean breathes, the sun casting a starfield of sparkles on the gentle waves. 

It's a private beach, quiet and secluded away from the rest of the world. Their status as Paladins of Voltron and IGF Atlas crew has made them a bit too recognizable, and it's hard to find the opportunity to be alone these days, out of the public eye. So when Iverson mentioned the private beach previously used for Garrison tech experimentation, Shiro jumped on the opportunity to secure a day off for all of them here.

Coran lays down a checked blanket large enough to house a small army, patting down the corners neatly as Lance and Hunk offload bags of food and drinks, surf boards, towels and other beach gear.

Allura, wearing a light sari over her bikini and sunglasses that cover half her face, runs to the beach, laughing. It's her first time at the sea, and her delight at seeing it is palpable. From his spot on the blanket in the shade, Lance watches her with an adoring smile. Hunk elbows him, waggling his eyebrows ridiculously, and it ends in a mock fight as they shove and swat at each other.

Keith has already lost his tank top somewhere, barefoot and dressed only in his red swimming trunks. He takes a running leap onto Shiro's back, catching him by surprise. He stumbles slightly and it startles a laugh out of him, even as he reaches back to support Keith's weight. Keith locks his ankles around Shiro's hips and hugs his arms around his chest. And because Shiro is usually the one to display affection publicly, often and in small gestures, the rare times that Keith initiates it are all the more precious to him. He turns his head obligingly so Keith can kiss his cheek, content to carry him all the way to the blanket.

Pidge has already made herself at home on the sand a few feet away. She's wearing a T-shirt and long shorts and a hat with the widest brim any of them have ever seen. Sunscreen is plastered in thick white stripes over her nose and cheeks. Her light skin burns easily, and she's always preferred the indoors, anyway.

She has a measuring tape in one hand and a drafting compass in the other, a pencil stuck behind one ear. The tip of her tongue sticks out between her teeth as she fiddles with the tape before jotting something down on the notepad in her lap.

Hunk kicks off his flip flops and goes over to her, digging his toes into the sand. "Hey. Whatcha doing?"

She doesn't look up at him, sticking the one end of the compass into the sand, then the other. "Marking out a level datum point."

"Uh...?"

She glances up at Hunk, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "We can't start laying the foundation trenches," she says, as if it should be obvious, "without a datum point, Hunk."

"Foundations. Sure."

"... For the sand castle?"

A wide grin spreads across Hunk's face. The next instant, he's on his knees next to her and they're debating the bearing of packed dry sand versus wet sand.

"Well, that ought to keep them busy for the rest of the day," Coran remarks, eyeing them with his hands on his hips.

 

**2\. Eat ice cream**

It's hot. The sun is nearing its apex, and beats down with the stinging vengeance of a typical coastal Summer. So when Lance mentions ice cream, everyone immediately chimes in. Even Pidge and Hunk somehow develop supersonic hearing, waving from their spot next to the half-constructed sand-Castleship and yelling, "Bring some for us, too!"

Allura looks at Lance inquisitively from where she's sitting next to him, long legs stretched out to catch the sun at the edge of the blanket. "What is this, 'ice cream' we've been hearing so much about?"

"Oh man, you're gonna love it!" Lance enthuses, shifting to his knees and gesturing excitedly. "It's like a milkshake, but hard, and you chew it instead of drink it."

Allura blanches at the mention of the word 'milkshake'. "Oh, dear."

"Still got feelings about the whole Kaltenecker incident, huh?"

"... So many feelings." Her eyes look haunted.

"Ice cream is really good, though. I promise."

"I guess I can give it a try..." Allura sounds dubious, biting her lip.

Lance grins, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "I'll be right back." He gets up, dashing off in the direction of the little roadside shop a small distance away from the beach's entrance.

Keith yawns, stretching his arms out above his head before adjusting his position draped over Shiro's stomach. Shiro's eyes are closed behind his sunglasses, his chest rising and falling evenly. The fingers of his Altean hand are buried in Keith's hair, his other hand pillowing his head. Keith is toying lazily with the edge of Shiro's tank, absently watching the water sink into the dark sand after every wave.

Lance returns with a bag full of ice cream wrapped in bright orange wrappers. Condensation beads on the sides of the plastic, leaving a trail of cold droplets behind him. He flops down on the blanket, handing out ice creams as everyone gathers around.

Keith takes two, pressing one hand on Shiro's stomach to lift himself up. Shiro reaches up to lift his sunglasses, peering at him from under the rim. Keith smiles wickedly and presses one of the cold ice creams into the crook of Shiro's neck - and gets tossed off him as Shiro jerks, sitting upright with a yell. Keith laughs, dodging the swat aimed at his arm and scooting up next to him to eat his own ice cream.

 

**3\. Collect seashells**

The rest of the morning passes in a haze of mellow conversation and long lapses of silence where they sit, content just to listen to the sound of the waves lapping at the shore. A light breeze rustles through the giant leaves of the tall trees lining the cove.

Keith watches a small crab shuffle sideways over the sand toward the beach, licking the last traces of his ice cream off the wooden stick. He muses, "Space Wolf would have loved it here."

"You should bring him next time," Shiro says, pushing his own ice cream stick into the sand.

Keith glances at him. "Next time..."

"Yeah?"

Keith shakes his head. "It's just... this is so nice. It's hard to think there can even be a 'next time'."

"I guess we haven't had a lot of nice days recently," Shiro agrees softly.

"We've been at war," Keith shrugs, and pushes his stick into the sand next to Shiro's.

"I've made a most amazing discovery," Coran announces, approaching the blanket from the direction of the beach. He'd opted to go for a walk instead of trying the ice cream ("The memories are still too clear, my dear boy. Perhaps one day, that vision of Kaltenecker will stop haunting me. But it is not this day.").

He holds out his hands for them to see. In them are arranged an array of tiny seashells, Chestnut Cowries and Mollusks and Tritons. "Did you know," he says conspiratorially, "Terran oceans are home to hundreds of species of small invertebrate animals who are able to shed their exoskeletons!"

"If you like that," Lance drawls, "You're gonna freak out when I tell you about snakes."

 

**4\. Enjoy a picnic**

It takes Lance about half an hour and various diagrams drawn in the sand with his finger to explain snakes to the Alteans. Allura looks mildly ill. Coran has a frown on his face as though he's at least ninety percent sure snakes are some elaborate conspiracy theory the Red Paladin made up.

Eventually, Shiro fetches his datapad and shows them some pictures, which convinces Coran they're real, and also that Earth is extremely strange.

Keith, meanwhile, is rooting around in the bags of food for something to eat. It's nearing noon, and he'd skipped breakfast in favor of getting a few minutes' extra sleep. Off days are rare for all of them, and he likes to take advantage of the opportunity to rest.

Hunk has filled the bags with canapes and little sandwiches and individually-wrapped slices of caramel roll cake. There are thick chunks of cheese and sliced cold meats, candied apples and flatbread roasted with herbs. The scent of strawberries wafts up from little plastic containers of fruit, nestled between crispy cheese straws wrapped in brown paper.

Keith takes one of each, heaping everything into a giant, precarious pile on a paper plate. 

Shiro smiles as he sits down next to him, reaching out to take a canape. "Thanks for bringing us food, baby."

Keith pulls the plate to the side, turning away from Shiro. "No. Mine. Get your own grub, Greedy."

Shiro just shakes his head, chuckling, and gets up to help himself to lunch. 

 

**5\. Take pictures**

The long morning stretches into a long afternoon. Shadows start to slant in the other direction, and the breeze has brought in a few fluffy, white clouds. Pidge, Lance and Allura are in the water, playing an elaborate and complicated game of tag. (According to Altean rules, one must grab one's opponent around the ankle, tackling them to the ground in order to pass on the tag. This leads to more than one mouthful of salt water, and various coughing fits.)

Keith and Shiro watch from the shade on the blanket, content just to sit together in each other's presence. After nearly losing each other so many times, they can't quite seem to get themselves to be apart more than they have to be. Shiro is almost constantly touching Keith; reassurance in some ways that he's really there, that he woke up after being in a coma for so long after the Robeast's explosion. Keith is subconsciously paranoid that something will happen to Shiro again, and has the need to have eyes on him always to reassure himself that he's still alive. So just being close together, arms touching where they lounge on the blanket, is enough.

Shiro turns to Keith, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "This is nice."

"Yeah," Keith smiles at him, "It is."

"It makes me so hopeful. That days like this can still happen. That peace is something we can have, sometimes."

Keith's smile turns into a contemplative look. He doesn't reply, but instead leans over to kiss Shiro properly. Shifting slightly to be closer to him, his hand comes up to cup Shiro's cheek. Shiro's arm curls around his back, fingers tickling over the nape of his neck. Both their eyes close in the moment. It's a long, soft kiss, nothing deeper than their lips moving together.

The snapping sound of a shutter brings them back to the present. They pull apart, turning to look at where Hunk has an ancient Polaroid camera aimed at them. The camera whirs, spitting a laminated photo from the slit in its bottom.

"Hunk," Keith admonishes, frowning at him, "You know I hate being in photos."

"I know, I know," Hunk placates, holding one hand up, "But you guys were just too cute to resist. I won't show it to anyone else." He takes the photo, flapping it in the air a few times before thrusting it in Keith's direction. "Super analogue. No copies."

Keith takes the photo, glaring at Hunk as he wanders off in the direction of the water to capture a few pictures of the others. Shiro scoots closer, peering at the Polaroid over Keith's shoulder. The image slowly clears, black bubbling into the red-and-white check of the blanket and the bright green of the leaves in the background and the amber rock of the cove wall peeking through the branches.

Front and center is the two of them, kissing. They look lost in each other. Their eyes are closed, hands touching skin tenderly. They look like they might melt into each other, like every curve and line of their faces was created specifically to align with the other's.

Keith wrinkles his nose, then lays the photo down on his thigh. "I guess it isn't that bad."

Shiro chuckles, pulling him into his arms. "I love you."

 

**6\. Stroll along the beach**

The sun paints broad orange and yellow strokes on the horizon. The water is shifting hues of copper and gold, shining in the day's last light. They are all pleasantly tired and warmed, muscles aching from playing on the sand and skin tingling from the lingering daylight.

They walk in pairs along the beach: Lance and Allura, Shiro and Keith, Hunk and Pidge. Allura splashes her feet in the cool waves, draws pictures in the sand with her toes. Keith has his fingers laced through Shiro's and his eyes on the horizon where the sun is setting. Hunk and Pidge are discussing something scientific that none of the others understand. They may as well be speaking a different language.

Coran is waiting for them by the entrance to the beach, blanket and bags packed and ready to go. It's been a long day, but in many ways, it's over too soon.

Keith's put his shirt back on against the wind, colder now and strong enough to whip grains of sand against their faces. Shiro never took his off; he's self-conscious about the scars on his body, and only ever lets Keith see them in the privacy of their room, alone at night.

The peace of the day has seeped into their bones, a lazy kind of tranquility as heavy as the loose sand their feet sink into. The war has taken its toll on all of them, weighing them down with the knowledge of how fragile life is, how easily a day like this may never come again. But for now, for this moment, they're happier than they've been in a long while.

The last rays of sunset shimmer over the distant waves. The tide is coming in, eating at the beach. Shiro pulls Keith to a stop, and waits for the others to pass them, waits for them to walk a few feet before tugging him closer by his hand.

Then he kisses him again, a deep kiss this time, and Keith has to lift up on his toes slightly to reach, but it's perfect in every way. Behind them, the sun disappears behind the horizon, and the first stars peek down at them, smiling from the heavens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally planning on doing "10 fun things to do at the beach", but unfortunately I ran out of time. I'm thinking of expanding this into a proper fic including the other 4 things, and with extended versions of the 6 currently up, later on.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/comfort_hold) and [tumblr](https://narada-talis.tumblr.com/)~


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